


Carry You Home

by MashpotatoeQueen5



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, After Pidge of course, Allura & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Allura is BAMF, Allura is confused by humans, Allura is protective of Pidge, And angst, And in all honesty those lion/paladin bonds are so cool?, Angst, At first I was like EHHH, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood and Injury, Bombing, Bombs, Bounty Hunters, But no I love her, Contemplating one's place in the universe, Coran & Katie Holt Friendship, Coran is great, Countdowns, Drugged Pidge, Evacuating, Even if she doesn't really need it, Everyone is protective of pidge, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Have I said that I love her yet?, He and Pidge must get along great, He's like my favorite, His moustache speaks to me at a personal level, Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Hunk is a sweetheart, I JUST REALLY LOVE PIDGE OKAY, I love Pidge so much, I love her, I love her too - Freeform, I love him, I need to know more, I really love those tags, I think that covers it all??, I'm Sorry, Injured Pidge, It doesn't get much better than that, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith is a good bro, Keith looks lovely with bright pink hair, Kid Pidge, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance is a sweetheart, Matt is protective of Pidge, Minor Injuries, No cohesive timeline?, Oh wait, Oops, Pidge and Matt are too good for this world, Pidge just wants her family back, Pidge loves her lion, Piggyback Rides, Pranks, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Precious Smol Bean, Probably slightly AUish because of that, SO MUCH FLUFF, Serious Injuries, She's honestly the best, Shiro & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Shiro is BAMF, Shoulder Rides, So protective, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Sorry if you see her/him/them as identifying differently!, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Stars, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, That means I must torture her?, The team gets to carry pidge, This happens every time, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Young Pidge, also like, and protective, as she should be, as they should be, baby pidge, because i do - Freeform, big boom, but we love him anyways, injuries, probably, she'S so cute, shiro is space dad, sleepy pidge, so much, there's a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashpotatoeQueen5/pseuds/MashpotatoeQueen5
Summary: Pidge is small. And light. And very easy to carry.Everyone ends up doing it at some point.(Otherwise known as that one fic where everyone gets a bit of fic where they get to pick up Pidge for some reason and said reasons get more and more angsty and I'M SORRY I JUST LOVE PIDGE OKAY.)





	Carry You Home

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this because My love of PIDGE consumed me and I couldn't hold back. It;s basically 20 pages of fluff and angst and of people picking Pidge up.
> 
> There's no cohesive plot line or timeline and it;s probably slightly AU ish so I HOPE THAT'S OKAY MY FRIENDS.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Hunk**

“I can’t believe that we have to walk!”

Everyone sighed as the exclamation filtered through the air yet again, somehow drawing the energy to do so despite their battle weary limbs and the mind boggling heat blazing down upon their tired frames.

“I mean- we are literal Paladins of Voltron and we have huge massive Space Lions and we save planets and-”

“Lance, I get that you’re frustrated, but complaining isn’t really going to help the team.”

Things… weren’t going so well.

The princess was somewhere far away, on one of her many diplomatic missions now that the fight with Zarok was finally over. Things weren’t perfect of course- there were still plenty of planets unfreed from their tyranny- but that was what the paladins were for.

But things had gone wrong. They had been expected and had taken a beating because of it, the Lions had crashed and powered down in a field of Stun Spore Flowers, which did exactly what one might expect them to do and knocked the entire team out, and then the whole group was taken briefly captive and driven some several miles away before waking up from the stun spores and beating their captors up.

And now… now, they were walking.

And Lance was complaining.

“Why do we have to walk? It’s not fai-”

“LANCE.”

And then they were just walking.

Then, finally, after three hours of placing one foot in front of the other in the blaring heat, checking the map every so often to be sure they were on track, Pidge spoke up.

“Shiro? Do you think we could take a break?”

The elder paladin glanced back at his younger teammates, at their hopeful, sweaty, sunburnt faces, and sighed. If he was going to be honest with himself- and he very rarely was- he was tiring as well.

His eyes flickered upwards- gazing briefly in the general direction of the hot blazing fireballs in the sky- before his head fell downwards in a tired nod. A cheer rose up amongst the teens, but almost immediately after, however, the youths were collapsing onto the ground and lying spread eagled, almost dozing under the shine of the three suns.

And they looked so very comfortable, but…

Shiro sighed. Again.

“Wait, not here; we need to find some shade or we’ll risk heat stroke.”

Groans rose up from the melting paladins, but slowly they rose to stand, looking dejected and annoyed but accepting.

Well, they all rose up, except for one.

Pidge sat on the dusty earth, glancing up at the older team members with an exhausted air. Hunk remembered, briefly, how the girl had mentioned upgrading her lion last night, which had probably taken up most of the twilight hours. Even with her sunburned cheeks, Hunk could make out the heavy bags under Pidge’s eyes.

So, sleep deprived _and_ overheated. Great.

“Shiro, do we _have_ to? My feet hurt…”

The voice was small and raspy sounding, just shy of outright complaining. It made Pidge sound, well, like her age for once.

And there… there it was: the full force of the ‘Pidge Pout,’ something that the Voltron Team joked to be the _actual_ most powerful weapon in the universe.

But, seeing the way Shiro was slowly but surely crumbling in the face of it where he stood so strong against any other obstacle, Hunk had to wonder if it was even really joke any more.

And Hunk was tired, he was tired and sore and he was pretty sure his pinky finger would have to be checked out because it stung every time he moved it, but…

But the Pidge Pout held sway with him, too, and the next thing he knew he was crouching in front of the younger girl, back facing her.

For a moment there was bewildered silence.

And then the words were blurting out of his mouth, only very slightly pathetically, and he was glancing back at her.

“Piggyback ride?”

She stared at him, deadpan and emotionless, for several moments. Then she glanced at her computer screen, and then at the long winding road in front of them and the visible heat waves rising off the dusty surface, and then finally at Shiro.

She pursed her lips, swiped sweat from her brow.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

And then she clambered onto Hunk’s back.

Hunk stood, shifting ever so slightly at the change of his center of gravity. It wasn’t too bad, though… Pidge was light, and Hunk was big and strong, and it wouldn’t be forever.

Shiro blinked at the strange interaction, trading sidelong glances with Keith, before sighing and wiping sweat from his own forehead.

“I- Thank you, Hunk, for doing that.”

By his ear, Pidge let out a quiet content humming noise- maybe in agreement, maybe without even realizing she was doing it- and closed her eyes, ever so slightly adjusting herself in Hunk’s grip to find a more comfortable position.

And the Voltron Team plodded on in cohesive silence.

Well, at least, they did for a few moments.

“Hey! How come _I_ didn’t get a piggyback ride-”

“SHUT UP, LANCE.”

* * *

 

 

**Lance**

Sooo… Pidge was a girl.

Pidge was a girl, but she dressed like a boy most of the time, and she acted like a boy most of the time, and she said a lot of things that Lance couldn’t and didn’t understand, and she was crazy smart and crazy small, and not someone Lance would ever want to flirt with, ever.

(She had been like a tiny brother, so he guessed now she was like his sister? Yeah, definitely no flirting.)

She was... She was Pidge.

And apparently everyone else had know ‘he’ was a she and Lance hadn’t even realized it, which made him feel a bit like a doofus and an insensitive jerk.

But he also wasn’t sure he should apologize? Was that something one did to team members who revealed their true gender?

And so Lance was stuck in a dilemma.

He stared at her from across the room, where she was sitting at her computer and typing away and where he was lounging on the couch, eyes narrowed in thought. He was going to fix this, even if he wasn't sure what needed fixing, or why it needed it in the first place.

Keith walked past them, his head tilting for a second in a brief, soundless nod of greeting before he disappeared from sight.

Pidge finally looked up at him, pushing her glasses up her nose and raising an eyebrow at him, obviously having been aware of his staring.

“Lance… what do you want?”

And Lance turned from where he had mentally followed Keith out of the room and towards her, eyes wide with mischievous delight.

It was the perfect plan.

“How would you feel about a joint collaboration in the pranking of our favorite emo?”

The smirk that slowly slid over Pidge’s face in response was a frightful sight indeed.

**...**

It was a strange day indeed, the day that a dramatic battle cry escaped through the entire castle and the battle cry wasn’t... actually… for battle.

“GO! GO! GO!!!”

“I’M GOING!”

“WELL, GO FASTER!!!”

Allura blinked, slowly lowering the glowing 3D maps that surrounded her. Her shoulders tensed, and she slid her feet apart ever so slightly. Something was coming her way, chasing two of her paladins, and she would be prepared, even if their voices didn’t sound quite right for the midst of a battle.

And then suddenly Lance and Pidge were flying past her, Pidle perched on top of Lance’s shoulders, the two of them tilted forwards in a dead sprint and laughing hysterically.

Pidge waved, grinning cheekily.

“Hi, Princess!”

Lance didn’t wave or even slow, but his response followed immediately after the younger girl’s, almost mingling with the tail end of her hasty greeting.

“Hi, Allura! Bye, Allura!”

And then they were swinging around another corner, laughing and yelling and racing out of sight.

But three ticks later, Keith came careening around the corner.

“LANCE, PIDGE, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

It was probably also important to mention that the boy’s hair was bright pink.

Keith turned on her, breaths heaving and brows heavy set. It would probably look scary, if not for the ridiculous updo.

“Where’d they go?”

Silently, and with much quiet amusement, Allura pointed the Red Paladin in the right direction.

Keith didn’t even pause to give his thanks, simply dashing through the doorway, yelling for his vengeance once more.

Allura smiled, turned back to her maps.

Humans were weird.

* * *

 

 

**Coran**

“Coran?”

The older- though not _that_ old- advisor straightened from his stooped position over the main council board, glancing back at the smallest Paladin in slight confusion.

“Yes, Number Five?”

Pidge gave him her best deadpan look- which was surprisingly scarily good- and grabbed the Altean by his arm, dragging him down the hallways.

“I need your help.”

Coran had very little choice in the matter- the young girl was surprisingly strong- but he was more than willing for the distraction from the dull job of checking up on the castle systems yet again.

And so, it was with this sequence of events that Hunk stumbled upon the pair two hours later, Pym standing rather unsteadily on the ginger’s shoulders, arms reaching up and adjusting a…. something  on the high ceiling of some off the beaten track hallway.

Now, technically, Hunk should probably go in and figure out what they were doing. He was an engineer, after all, and the information would probably be useful.

But… listening to the conversation going on inside…

 

_“Gah! Coran, stop wobbling!”_

_“I’m not wobbling; you’re the one who’s shifting more than a Wargle Rat! And- STOP! DON’T TWIST THE KNACKLENABBER!!! I SAID THE PRYROLAX, PIDGE,_ **_THE PRYOLAX;_ ** _DO YOU WANT TO GET US ALL KILLED!?!?”_

_“WELL WHICH ONE IS THE PRYOLAX, THEN!?”_

_“THE KNOBS!”_

_“The knobs? Wha- oh. OH! Why didn’t you just say so?”_

_“I_ did _-”_

_“Shh, you’re moustache is disbalancing me.”_

_“That doesn’t even make any sense-”_

 

Well… Hunk decided that he would be better off not interrupting.

* * *

 

 

**Keith**

It was in the middle of the night, and Keith was exhausted.

Despite his tiredness, his brain refused to sleep, alive with thoughts and fears and guilts, things that had gone wrong during the day’s mission, things that _he_ had done wrong during the day’s mission. He hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been paying enough attention, and he had almost gotten Pidge _killed_ because of it.

The laser blast had been that close to her, had actually grazed her shoulder and upper arm and burned her slightly through the suit. He was supposed to have had her back, and yet he had been too distracted arguing with Lance and he hadn't stuck to her side properly, leaving her open in places where she believed herself covered.

It was his fault, all his fault, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t let himself forget it. He had to be careful, had to be aware. This was war, not a game, not a simulation: people were _depending_ on him.

So he wandered the halls of the flying castle like a ghost in the dead of night, only half there as his mind flew from thought to thought, unaware of where he walking or what routes he had taken. It was quiet beyond his footsteps, silence only interrupted by the soft _thumps_ of his bare feet on the smooth Altean floor.

Until it wasn’t.

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thu-_

His foot did not land on something hard and flat. The soothing tread of thumps was broken by something squishy and warm that let out an odd snuffling sound in response.

Keith froze, hardly daring to breathe, fingers twitching in instinct to his sides for a weapon he did not have.

And then Keith was aware of the fact that there was two sets of breathing filling the hallway, and he ever so slowly lowered himself into a cautious crouch, squinting and trying to see through the near complete dark, and blinking at his find.

It was Pidge.

Pidge, conked out against the wall with her head tilted onto her own shoulder and laptop opened on her knees, screen having long since gone black from lack of use. Her hair was messy and her shirt sleeve was slipping down her shoulder, revealing the crisp white bandage underneath that was protecting her burnt arm.

And she was fast asleep, out of it enough that she didn’t even wake up when Keith actually accidentally stepped on her leg.

And Keith had no idea what to do.

His first instinct, of course, was to back off. To retreat and leave and hide out in his room and pretend the situation never occurred at all. It was even better because Pidge wouldn’t even be able to call him out on it, because she wasn’t even aware it had happened in the first place.

He turned to go, hesitated, and stopped.

He had already left Pidge abandoned once that day, was he really going to do it again?

And… and they were pretty far out of the way, in the tiny crammed hallway. What if they were attacked? Pidge would be defenseless, or would have to go through more conflict to get to her lion, and very possibly become even more injured than she was now. He didn’t think leaving her would be a very good tactical decision…

He glanced back at her again. The way her head was resting could not be comfortable, or even good for her neck…

Keith bit his lip, and then crouched in front of the girl once more, very gently and more than a little awkwardly putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Pidge?”

No response. Keith shook her shoulder ever so slightly.

“Pidge? You probably shouldn’t sleep out here…”

This time there was a slight response, the girl’s brows furrowing as she turned ever so slightly away, computer sliding off her lap. Keith barely managed to catch it before it clattered onto the ground.

“...mph.. five more minutes, mom…”

Okay. Okay, so that didn’t work. Pidge was obviously just as exhausted- if not more so- as Keith, and he knew that if he _could_ sleep he would do so for a thousand years without regret. But he couldn’t just leave her there, either…

So… So, Plan C?

Awkwardly, Keith shifted. It was really too dark for this, but he somehow managed to slide his arms under Pidge’s shoulders and knees, lifting her as gently as possible and settling her against himself, balancing the girl’s computer on her stomach. She was gangly for her small size, an octopus of limbs that somehow managed to slip out of Keith’s grasp with every movement, head lolling and body twisting in a stubbornly unhelpful manner.

Finally, he managed to stand upright in a relatively decent carrying position.

Keith breathed, shifting her again and marveling the kid’s ability to completely dismiss all the movement without even a mumbled protest. Pidge simply sighed, leaned her head against Keith’s shoulder, and fell back into deep slumber.

It was weird. It was weird and Keith wasn’t sure he was doing this right, but he somehow managed to navigate through the many hallways and rooms back to the dorms, yet again awkwardly pausing in front of Pidge’s door as he tried to figure out how to open it without dropping anything -- or, really, anyone.

He figured it out eventually, stumbling heavily into the messy room and almost falling seven times over one scattered object or another on the way to Pidge’s bed. Once there, he somehow managed to ungracefully deposit the girl on the matress, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon doing so.

There. He did it. Mission complete.

The computer slid next to Pidge as the smallest paladin murmured and shifted onto her side, curling into a ball. Keith looked around for a blanket and found one trapped under a pile of rolled up paper balls. As quietly as possible, he eased it out and threw it over the girl, tensing when her brows furrow and letting loose a relieved breath when they relaxed once more.

For several moments, Keith stood still. He was tired. He was tired, but feeling… oddly accomplished. It was a good feeling.

Then he turned to go.

Just as he was about to exit the room, a slightly muffled, baffled voice spoke up, croaky and dry and heavy with sleep.

“Matt? ‘S’that you?”

Keith tensed, quickly turning around and a thousand excuses and apologies on his lips, but then he realized that even though Pidge was looking at him, she wasn’t really _seeing_ him, eyes drooped more towards shut than open, elbow half supporting her body as she squinted at his figure.

And she thought he was Matt. She thought he was her brother.

And Keith never did know what to do in these kind of situations, but seeing the almost hopeful expression in the girl’s sleepy eyes drove him to action.

“Yeah, Pidge, it’s Matt. Everything’s fine. Go to sleep.”

Pidge blinked in slow motion, a small, tired half smile flickering over face.

“M’kay, g’night. Love you.”

Keith froze, because those words were not meant for him, but for Pidge’s brother, someone she was working ever so hard to get back, someone she obviously cared about almost more than anything.

Someone she might never see again. Someone Keith was impersonating.

But perhaps he could give her this, even if it was a bit of an illusion. Perhaps this was just something Pidge needed to hear.

“I love you, too, Pidge. More than anything.”

And Pidge hummed, content, head already back on the mattress and eyes already closing, falling asleep without another thought as the door slid shut, leaving her room in the peaceful dark.

And Keith stood outside for one minute. Two. And then he went to bed.

And if the next morning Pidge showed up at the breakfast table curiously bright eyed and bushy tailed, smile happy and carefree as she chattered on about her amazing dream that had just been _so real_ where her brother had been there for her, telling her he loved her…

Well, Keith didn’t say anything. Simply picked at his food and smiled a small, private smile. Perhaps he did the right thing, after all.

* * *

 

 

**Allura**

The smile on Allura’s face was beginning to freeze into place, feeling awkward and stiff and plastered in all the ways that were never good for a diplomatic meeting. However, there was very little she could do about it, as it wasn’t like she could suddenly pause halfway through her negotiations and rub her cheek muscles.

Yet another large battle was over. Over a third of the Galra Empire had officially been overthrown, the previous colonized planets finally free to live and rule as they pleased. But that meant peace treaties and supply treaties and trading agreements and hours upon hours of negotiations, each nation leader trying to garner enough supplies and food and safety for their new, fragile, free planets.

And Allura, the head diplomat of the Voltron team, was required to be present for essentially all of it.

Her only solace was that she wasn’t completely alone. The rest of the Paladins of Voltron had been called upon to watch over the negotiations as well. Having them there, even if they were not in their lions, gave a sense of safety for the meetings, confidence that they could and would be protected.

Was it unfair that they got to be in uniform while she was required to wear her dress and royal cress? Yes. Did this annoy her? Definitely.

But it wasn’t bad as it could have been. After all, Allura wasn’t new to this rodeo.

The Paladins were scattered across several different planets in pairs, at the moment. Some were poking around to be sure no Galra forces remained, some were watching over some other negotiations, some were holding meetings with the other rebel forces.

Currently, Pidge was by her side, green visor up and face set in a thin line of annoyance. The being talking with her was from the Planet Kolding, a stubborn race that appeared more often than not as a large pile of slime, secreting thick, goopy liquids at an almost constant rate, as if they had a very bad case of the slipperies.

They were not always… the most _pleasant_ beings to talk with, but it was their duty all the same, and so they would do it.

Allura just wished she would be able to wear her uniform while doing it.

After several minutes of intense discussion, the thirteenth set of nation leaders exited, leaving five minutes before the next shift. The Altean Princess heaved a deep breath, bringing a hand to rub at her face before glancing at her smaller companion.

“How long until the feast?”

Pidge brought up her gauntlet, scrolling through the tidal waves of information before her eyes flashed up to meet Allura’s blue orbs.

“Two more individual delegate meetings, which isn’t _so_ bad.”

Allura groaned.

“Bad enough.”

Despite her complaints, however, the next two meetings went swiftly and with few conflicts. Enough so that Allura was actually surprised at how well everything went. The next thing the two Paladins knew, they were seating themselves at the high table and servers were bringing out drinks and foods of all different sorts. Some, Allura recognized from thousands of years ago. Others… not so much.

She made sure to try at least a small amount of each kind, however, complementing all the different variants of meals, even if the actual flavor was like ash on her tongue.

Pidge, on the other hand, was not so polite, willing to try things but more often than not immediately regretting it, face contorting in disgust and hands reaching out quickly for her drink to guzzle it down time after time.

After the sixth disaster in a row, the younger girl looked up at Allura as if she was some terrible feat of magic, either completely ignoring or completely unaware of the upfronted looks she was receiving.

“How are you even _eating_ any of this?”

_The girl had no filters. None_.

Allura plastered a smile.

“It is all good food, Pidge. I don’t understand how you are _not_ enjoying it.”

Perhaps, if the younger girl said nothing more on the matter, they could move on without incident. Perhaps the delegates could laugh it off and that would be that.

Sadly, Allura was never that lucky.

Pidge looked up at her, hazel eyes huge.

“Allura. This food is _disgusting_.”

The Green Paladin never was one to beat around the bush. She was smart and quick, direct and to the point, saying what she thought as she thought it and being unafraid of what others would think. (Or, at least, unaware of the effect her words might have on others.) Most of the time, Allura appreciated this about her smaller friend.

Now… was not one of those times.

But as the meal moved on, Pidge got less and less energetic. In fact, she became pale and slow, nibbling quietly at some Brustof from the Polodrine people and hardly saying a word.

The sudden change in demeanor was enough to worry Allura, but not enough for her to stop the meeting and ask what was wrong. She figured that Pidge had just realized how being quiet was more helpful to a diplomatic meeting than insulting people’s cultures by claiming their food was disgusting. Or perhaps she had simply realized what she had said and was trying to avoid further incidents. It didn’t matter. All that mattered is that Allura would be able to finish everything up soonish and they would be able to go back to the castle and make fun of ridiculous delegates and find some _real food._

(Later, sitting outside a Cryo Pod with an angry Matt besides her, Allura would regret this. Would wish she would have thought to ask.)

Finally, just as the meeting adjourned and the last event of the day- Allura shuddered in horror- The Social Hour, commenced, Pidge looked up at her once more. Her eyes were wide and small furrows were between her brow, as if in pain.

“Allura, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom…. I don’t feel too good…”

The Altean Princess immediately felt her expression shift into one of concern. The food must have not settled well with the human digestive system, then. She would keep that in mind for future delegate visits; test the food for human edibility before bringing her Paladins to any social event.

Perhaps Hunk would volunteer.

On the outside, Allura simply nodded, giving quiet directions to the restroom facilities.

(This, too, would be something she would regret in the near future.)

Pidge herself was suddenly and progressively feeling awful. With every step towards the supposed restrooms, her limbs felt more sluggish and her brain ever so slightly more floaty, as if she was pushing her way through a thick fog. She felt sick to her stomach and strangely distant from the situation, words coming slow and foreign to her mind, sensory input shifting in peculiar ways and offering a strange yellowish tint to all her surroundings.

She felt wrong. Lethargic.

_What sort of food poisoning did this???_

Eventually, about halfway to her destination, Pidge’s legs decided to stop working and she ungracefully toppled to the ground, suddenly desperately resisting the urge to throw up. Blearily, she watched her gloved fingers curl into fists on the strange bubbly floors that marked the planet’s architecture. With shaking hands, she pushed herself up to lean against the wall, trying to take deep breaths as she reached up and clicked her helmet off. The motion was usually as simple as blinking, but in those few moments it was the most difficult task in the world.

_What was wrong with her?_

And then suddenly she wasn’t on the ground anymore, but being lifted up by the back of her neck- and the grasp pinching the skin there weas not comfortable, at all- to stare face to face with a semi-familiar, definitely unfriendly, face.

Pidge blinked, trying to place the scaly skin and glowing yellow eyes, her brain oddly wandering to Matt’s spy cave before the thought slipped away from her. Her brows furrowed, and she narrowed her eyes at the figure holding her, so caught up on trying to figure out where she knew him from that she didn’t even realize the issue of the fact that he was holding her like a sack of meat, and such a position usually implied bad things.

_Wait.. Sack of meat?_

She opened her mouth, closed it. She was tired and dizzy, everything lethargic and faraway. In fact, it would be really great if the dude could put her down so that she could lie down and sleep for a bit…

Her head hurt. She wanted Matt.

But wait- Wasn’t Matt gone? _Oh no, oh no, Matt was gone, Pidge had to find him_ -

“Whe’s Matt?”

Was that her voice? It sounded wrong. Slurred.

The scaly being holding her laughed, and it was too loud, _too loud,_ making her head pound. She frowned at him, because why was he laughing? Matt needed her!

But wait- didn’t she already find him?

So where was he?

She tried to turn around to find him, but the grip holding her up prevented her from turning.

She looked at the scaled face in front of her, except now there was two, three faces. It was wrong, everything was wrong, and her thoughts were foggy and her limbs didn’t seem to be functioning or even collaborating with her mental instructions. And she didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She was tired. It had been a long day. Why couldn’t the creepy lizard dude just leave her alone?

“Geroff me. Gotta fin’ Matt.”

She pushed at his arm, feeling out of sorts and realizing she could hardly get any pressure into the movement at all. That her eyes were drooping shut. The creature holding her laughed, bringing her closer to his face.

“I don’t think so, little Paladin. You ruined my streak; so now I have to prove my worth to the bounty hunter community by bringing you in as a nice _special_ piece of meat.”

Pidge blinked, trying to process what the lizard was saying- _Meat? Where had she heard that before?_ \- but logic was slipping from her grasp like water through a stream, and her head was heavy and she didn’t like this, she _definitely_ didn’t like this.

And then she was being slammed against a wall, her skull cracking against the hard metal, and everything went dark.

 

**…**

 

Something was wrong.

Pidge had yet to return from the restroom, despite it being over forty five minutes since her exit, and something was definitely, terribly wrong.

If only Allura could figure out what was wrong. That would be great.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, she didn’t need to wait long, because but moments after her worried thought the Green Lion started making a ruckus in her brain, concern and agitation and anger that did not belong to the Altean Princess rushing through her mind at a disconcerting pace, along with a demand to get to the Lion’s side _that instant._

It was rare that a Lion connected to a Paladin that it did not partner with… And when it did? Not a good sign.

Pidge. Pidge was in trouble, and things were going horribly, horribly wrong.

Without another word to the delegate in front of her, Allura turned and ran.

She skidded to a halt behind the Green Lion, eyes narrowed and fierce, flitting about to find the missing youngest member. But there was no one but the mechanical beast besides her, who’s worry and anger had only become more intense with their close proximity.

And then suddenly a voice filtered through to the Altean’s ears, one that belonged undeniably to Pidge, except that it was... off.

“Greeenie. Greeeenie. Hi. My head hurts. The mean man says I have to let him come, but I don’ wanna. I want Matt. Where’s Matt?”

The voice that responded to the rambles was guttural and deep, angry and frustrated.

“Open it, Paladin, or you’re going to lose the use of your leg.”

Pidge sounded like she was about to cry when she replied.

“B-but Greenie doesn’t wanna. She’s telling me to waaait. Just go a-away. She do-doesn’t like you…”

Allura reached for her bayard, cleverly concealed within her dress pockets, movements slow but sure.

“Wait!? Why is it telling you to wait? Are you making it get help!?”

_Quiznak._

Well, that was her cue.

Allura flipped out and activated her bayard, swipping out her whip and slashing it at the being who had Pidge and frowning in frustration as he retaliated without a second thought, sending a swipe of electric line to block her own stroke.

And then Arulla froze, because the figure had suddenly switched positions and had a laser blaster aimed at Pidge’s head, who looked at her with wide, confused eyes, pupils blown far too large. Blood was trickling down her forehead, matting her hair as she leaned heavily upon the arm around her waist, as if the grip was the only thing keeping her upright.

_Concussion_ , Allura’s mind analyzed, and then her mind flashed back to the meal and Pidge’s strange change of mood. _Probably drugged up, too_.

And while her mind analyzed the facts and figured that out, Allura internally panicked, because there was Pidge- her Paladin, her _friend_ \- looking confused and small in the arms of a figure with a gun cocked against her head.

She stayed still.

“Lower your weapon.”

She did, keen eyes narrowed.

The man glanced for half a tick at the giant Green Lion besides it, before looking down at the loopy Paladin in his arms. He cursed, and then Pidge was being dragged away, slowly, slowly, gun still pressed against her head.

Allura did not movel, watching, waiting.

Pidge was frowning, looking blearily up at her captor and then at Allura, looking confused and dizzy, fingers reaching up to grasp at the arm around her waist even as her gaze settled on her Lion.

“Greenie?”

The Lion’s eyes flickered yellow- Allura suddenly stumbled upon the fact that Pidge had bonded with her Lion far more than even she had expected- and then it was rising, growling, and the bounty hunter started cursing.

Distracted. He was distracted.

Almost without thinking, Allura sent her bayard whip flying, the glowing end wrapping around the potential kidnapper’s neck and jerking him, the gun tilting from its angle and Pidge stumbling out of his grip and onto the ground.

The man cried out, his grasp on the gun tightened-

A shot sounded through the air, and Allura’s heart stopped.

Pidge cried out, loud in the sudden silence after the gunfire.

The Altean saw red.

The bounty hunter never knew what hit him, the rough jerk of the whip around his neck his only warning before Allura’s foot landed a firm blow upon his head, knocking him instantly unconscious.

But half a tick later, she was by Pidge’s side, gently, carefully rolling her over from her curled up position on her side, her heart skipping half a beat when she saw how the younger female’s hands were clasped around her thigh, face pale and ashen and red blooming across the white fabric.

She got out the communicator, calling for Coran to bring forth the castle as quickly as possible, because Pidge was shot- because Allura had let Pidge get shot- and needed first aid.

Calling for Coran to tell the rest of Team Voltron and- _quiznak, quiznak, quiznack_ \- Matt.

And then her attention was on Pidge.

“Pidge? Pidge, I need you to look at me. Do you know where you are?”

The Altean felt some relief filter through her system when amber eyes flashed open, but the feeling dulled upon being reintroduced to the too-wide pupils and the dazed, out of it look. The younger girl’s heartbeat, when Allura checked it, was thready and fast, and her breaths were shallow.

Pidge blinked up at her blearily, as if she had just met princess the other day and was trying to remember her name instead of having lived and fought and known her for months.

“...Allura?”

She put on her best smile.

“Yes. It is I. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Pidge frowned, eyes closing before snapping back open.

“Leg: it’s burning. And my head… hurts. It’s not… not working right.”

Every word was slurred, and then she was suddenly trying to _stand up_ with _an injured leg_.

“Whoah! Whoah, Pidge, where are you going!? Sit down, you’re _hurt_.”

And Pidge’s eyes were suddenly wild, distant, looking up at her but no longer seeing her, struggling to escape her firm but gentle grasp.

“Greenie. Greenie’s worried. She needs me, she needs me; you’ve gotta let me go.”

And then Pidge was crying, repeating over and over again that, “She needs me, she needs me,” and Allura was trying to hush her and failing, and- and-

And there was nothing left for it.

As gently as possible, she lifted the youngest Paladin- wincing when the younger girl released a hiss of pain in response- and carried her over to the anxiously waiting Green Lion.

It was funny, how small the girl seemed in her arms, except at the same time it was almost grotesque.

(This small girl had saved the world. This small girl- small, young girl- had been trained and put into fights and into battles and into war as a soldier, as a part of a weapon, and a part of Allura would never be able to forgive herself for her role to play in it.)

Once the Green Paladin was safely cradled by the Lion’s paws, Allura reached down and ripped up a long strip from the bottom of her dress- a voice that sounded suspiciously like Coran’s shrieking because _THE DRESS WAS TEN THOUSAND YEARS OLD AND YOU JUST RIPPED IT_ \-   and wrapped it around Pidge’s thigh, hoping the pressure would help keep the blood in.

And then they sat and waited, Pidge floating in and out of a tired, drowsy state and a hyperactive babbling one, until finally the younger girl made an attempt to stand yet again.

“Allura, ‘llura, we hafta - we hafta find Matt. We hafta find him- I gotta find him. I said ‘lI would find him, Allura. Where’s he?  Matt? Matt!?”

The Altean kept her down, hushing her, glancing at her blown out pupils yet again.

“Shh, shh. Pidge, Pidge, you found him. You found him. You did it, he’s safe.”

She stilled.

“Found ‘im?”

Allura smoothed back Pidge’s bangs, a movement that the younger girl would usually not tolerate in the slightest.

“Yes, you found him.”

“..ok.”

And then Pidge’s eyes were rolling to the back of her head, and Allura had an unconscious Paladin in her arms.

The passage of ticks following was painful, time rushing in too fast and then too slow, the castle showing up relatively quickly after Pidge passing out. Allura remembered picking her up once more, rushing her through hallways and doors until the the cryopods were in sight, placing Pidge inside one and offering curt, short answers to Coran’s worried questions.

Then time had gone slow, pulling out and stretching so that every tick seemed to last a lifetime, and she sat by Pidge’s pod and rested her head in her hands and pretended that her heart wasn’t still skipping beats.

Pidge had seemed so small, cradled in her arms. So easily broken.

And Allura had sent that child out to war.

And then Matt had come in, angry and loud and glaring at her, protectiveness over his kid sister rising from the ashes of his usually calm spirit. Because Allura had said the battle was over, _so why was Pidge knocked out in the Cryopod_?

And Allura had no answer.

And finally Matt had closed his eyes, tight and angry, before releasing a breath and plopping himself down by his sister’s side, murmuring an apology without any real emotion, gaze fixed on the smooth pale floor.

Allura had not replied, had simply sat down and stared, picking at the flecks of blood on her arms.

She should get changed. She should leave. She should say, “I’m sorry,” too. But the words were stuck in her throat and her room seemed so far away from her younger companion, and she didn’t have the heart for it.

So she sat, and she waited.

And a couple of hours later, when the rest of the team had all come in and filtered out in rushes and waves, when the Cryopod finally dinged, Pidge stepped out more wobbly than ever, leg fully healed but drugs still functioning through her systems, and she held onto Matt and she cried and laughed at the same time. When the older boy finally managed to soothe her, she looked around and smiled at Allura, young and bright and carefree, as if Allura was a good guy, as if Allura was a savior.

(Sometimes, the Altean believed these things of herself…)

As if Allura was not the one who put her in this position, in this war. A child soldier facing death and destruction and things no person should ever have to deal with.

(Sometimes, she did not.)

* * *

 

 

**Shiro**

“GUYS, WE HAVE TO GET EVERYONE OUT! A BOMB’S BEEN SET TO EXPLODE IN EIGHT AND A HALF DOBOSHES!!!”

Shiro cursed at the sound of Pidge’s panicked voice inside his ear, not even pausing to wipe sweat off his brow as he filtered more and more Ulugran people onto the evacuation ship, faster and faster until the crowd of faces became nothing more than a blur of brilliant oranges and purples.

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

But really, when was anything ever easy with the Voltron Team?

Get in, get the intel, and get out. That had been the plan.

Except… except there had been a planned execution of over a hundred Ulugran prisoners by the Galra, and the team had seen the planet’s awful conditions and decided soundly that they couldn’t just _leave_ it there, and then they had been spotted, and then there had been fighting and conflict and shouting and Voltron, and now they were evacuating the planet and fending off the remaining Galra soldiers all at one.

And, of course, there was the bomb.

Shiro should have known upon first noticing the sudden lack of enemies trying to cut his head off.

He should have known. He didn’t.

In his ear, confirmation reports rung out, sections being stated clear and pods being checked off as they exited the atmosphere. And then there was Pidge again, breath coming out harsh and fast as if she was running, yelling to get out of all and any underground tunnels anywhere near Section 4, because it was about to blow in early detonation.

“After the explosion, we’ve got about three and a quarter dobashes before the rest of the bombs go off and everything collapses.”

And then there was the explosion, the aftershocks shaking the ground under Shiro’s feet even though he was over three sections away.

Without a second thought, his hand rose to his comn.

“Team, team, come in. Sound off: Go.”

“All clear here. We weren’t able to get a couple of the shuttles off, but they should still be able to get into the atmosphere within thirty ticks.”

_Hunk._

“The Lance Man has it covered!”

_Lance._

“Why are you referring to yourself in the third person? That doesn’t even make sens-”

_Keith. Definitely Keith._

Shiro sighed.

“Boys.”

“Sorry, Shiro; I’m finished with Section Two. Heading off to Section Five to help out Hunk.”

That was three. He was missing one.

“Pidge? Pidge, come in.”

_Static_.

Not good.

_Three dobashes left to go._

“Everyone, get your sections cleared and in the air. We’re going after Pidge.”

Confirmations were sounding in his ear yet again, but Shiro was only half paying attention, too busy loading up and sending off the last of the transport shuttles and running to his Lion.

He tried to get in contact with Pidge once more as his Lion soared into the sky and into the smoky air above, but there was no response.

_Two dobashes_.

Section Four was deserted from the top, long stretches of holey, grey, tarmac like land. But Shiro could see the flashing lights escaping the tunnels below.

The Black Lion dived, hearing the other Paladins begin to form ranks around him. They landed with a flurry of dust, and Shiro is out and running before it even began to settle. The shuttles were all gone, which was good, but further down one of the tunnels Shiro could see the flashing of blasters.

Which wasn’t good.

_One dobash and thirty seven ticks_.

Shiro turned the corner, metallic hand already glowing and knowing the other paladins would be right behind him. The porous rock surrounding them was shaking and constantly shedding off layers of dust and small pebbles, as if breaking apart. The support beams were shuddering under their weight, several of them already collapsed. It was obvious that the the tunnels would not be standing for much longer.

The rocky rounded hallway opened up into a large ovular chamber, a mess of blackened smoke and burnt objects, dust and shouting and blasters firing over and over again. If Shiro squinted, he could just spot a flash of green on the other side of the room, where the biggest group of Galra had converged.

_One dobash and four ticks_.

Pidge’s Lion was grounded, sprawled out in the corner of the room with eyes dull. Galra were crawling over it, and they didn’t have _time_ for this, and Shiro shouted at Hunk for him to get the Green Lion up and in the air, _fast._

The Yellow Paladin nodded, already running. Shiro didn’t bother checking to make sure his orders were followed, just ran himself, Lance and Keith besides him. They had to get to Pidge.

_One dobash to go_.

It was fast and bloody and gruesome, warriors and soldiers falling away to Shiro’s weapon of an arm and the boys’ swords. They had to get out, they had to get out, _they were running out of time,_ they had to _get out._

“Pidge!”

That was Lance, his voice high and loud, and Pidge was looking up catching sight of them, blood clotting in her bangs and several tears in her dirt stained uniform, face determined and weapon at the ready, twisting and turning through the blades and blasts that followed her as if it was a dance, one where her every partner somehow found themselves on the ground and unconscious. She had lost her head gear and her left ankle seemed to be sprained.

_Forty nine ticks to go._

She smiled, relieved, and opened her mouth to say something, distracted from the fight for only a moment- _it only ever just takes a moment-_ and then suddenly her face is screwing up and her body toppling downwards, forwards, as a Galra soldier pulled out his long jaded knife in preparation for a second attack.

He never got the chance.

Keith swooped in like an avenging angel, and his face was _angry-_ Shiro was angry, too. Furious. No one hurt his team. No one was supposed to hurt the people he loved. Never again.- and Pidge was still, still, still on the ground, and Shiro’s mind flashed back, to another Holt, to another time, and there was danger and there was blood and there-

There wasn’t enough time. He had to focus. It only took a moment of distraction.

It only ever took just a moment of distraction.

_Forty ticks to go._

He knelt, swooped down and carefully, quickly, picked up Pidge in his arms. She whimpered,and it was so close to silent, and yet it still somehow seemed to be the loudest noise out of all the yelling and screaming and blaster fire. And there was blood seeping out of her abdomen, staining white bright, rich red, and for a second, just for a second, Shiro thought he was going to freeze. She was so small, cradled in his arms. She was so small, and so brave, and so undeserving.

_He had told Matt he would look out for her, given a chance. And now she was bleeding out._

But then Lance was yelling, loud again, panicked, and they were running out of time.

“GO! Go, I’ll cover you, just get her out of here!”

Shiro didn’t freeze, couldn’t freeze. There would be time for that later.

He ran, and Pidge hissed breaths against his neck, lax and limp in his grip even as her eyes screwed shut tight in pain.

A Galra tried to stab him. Shrio twisted to the side, cursing under his breath when Pidge’s eyes opened suddenly, hazel orbs blown out and purely _panicked_  from pain, and her arms suddenly shot up to grip at his shoulder.

_Thirty-five ticks to go._

She was still bleeding. The clock was still ticking. They had to get out.

“Hank!”

The Yellow Paladin looked up, his face paling at the sight of Pidge, and he reached down and yanked at a strange glowing purple contraption centered on the forehead of the Green Dragon.

Mechanic eyes flashed yellow, and a roar shook the cavern, earth tumbling from the ceiling in chunks and support beams trembling and snapping like twigs. The Green Lion had awoken, and it was not pleased.

They had to get out. They were out of time. _They had to get out._

They were running, running out of the chamber, running out of time. The Galra soldiers were behind them, chasing them, and Shiro could only grip his small, bloodied charge tighter and call for Keith to inform Allura to get a cryo pod pod ready. Could only count his team, make sure he had all of them- _He wasn’t going to abandon anyone. Never again-_ and run and run and run until the cavern opened up in front of him

Behind them, the Green Lion roared once again, and the sounds of Galra soldiers crashing against the earthen walls filled the air.

_Twenty five ticks to go._

Shiro’s own Lion was waiting for him, and he dove inside and crashed into his seat, keeping a one armed grip around Pidge and curling around her ever so slightly as his Lion swooped upwards, trying to protect her from the sudden shift of gravity.

He sensed, more than heard or saw, the other Lions follow after them, the Green Lion following Pidge like a loyal puppy. .

If the situation wasn’t so intense, Shiro would smile at the mental image. But Pidge was letting out little huffs of breathy pain, and all humour was gone in the situation.

_Ten ticks._

The Lions of Voltron swarmed upwards, breaking through the atmosphere and into the endless grasps of space.

_Zero._

Behind them, the world exploded.

And then a voice, high and strained and worried, and Shiro ignored the rest of the team as they clamoured in his ear in favor of turning his attention to listening to the soft words.

“Everyone… okay?”

Shiro licked his lips, keeping a hand pressed to Pidge’s side and wincing in sympathy when she groaned. Her eyes were wet with the affliction of her wound, and her every muscle was trembling. Sweat was beading on her brow, the blood clotting her bangs only making her look worse.

And yet she was still concerned. Still putting others in front of herself.

“Fine. Fine, they’re all fine.”

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed once, twice, her grip on his shoulder flagging before tightening again.

“G-Greenie?”

Shiro glanced around, trying to find a good place to lay down the wounded girl that wasn’t the floor, and finding none. He needed to stop the bleeding. He needed to keep her alive until they could get her to a cryo pod.

“Oh… that’s good….”

And then her eyes were rolling to the back of her head and the grip on Shiro’s shoulder was going lax, and he was swearing, asking her to wake up- _please wake up-_ and laying her down on the floor, pressing hands down on the too large wound on her too small abdomen and finally responding to the panicked flurries of questions in his ears, all the while constantly checking the girl’s vitals and pretending that the sight of blood pressing through his fingers doesn’t make him want to tremble.

He was glad that the Black Lion seemed to know where to go despite his lack of piloting. He was even gladder when the castle appeared before them

His Lion landed, and Shiro was picking Pidge up and running down the hallways to the cryo pods without a moment’s hesitation- _all it takes is a moment-_ muttering under his breath words he didn’t even know he was saying.

“ _I got you, I got you, you’re gonna be okay. I got you…_ ”

And Pidge was so small in his arms, so pale, and as he finally hands her off to Coran who grimly and quickly prepares her for the pod before placing her inside, her small figure swallowed by the white.

And Shiro slowly picked up Pidge’s blood stained Paladin uniform from where it lay on the table, and his hands, they shook.

* * *

 

 

**Matt**

Katie kept kicking his chest as she swung her feet up and down on their slow march up the hill just half an hour away from their house. The sun was just beginning to set, and they were going to spend a night out under the stars, just him and his kid sister.

It was nice, and as Katie began to hum and pat on his head in tune with the rhythm, he couldn’t help but laugh and tug her foot a little, setting her off balance and making her let loose an indignant squawk in response. When the girl leaned forwards to scowl at him upside down in protest, he grinned innocently, and she stuck out her tongue at him.

“Do you wanna get off?”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, banging her feet a couple of times against his chest again.

“No!”

He rolled his eyes and trudged upwards once again. The backpack with their sleeping bags and camping necessities felt awkward with her also sitting on his shoulders, but he didn’t mind much. He had had worse, and Katie was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

It had been a while since he’d heard the girl simply hum happily and content- not since she had skipped second and third grade and become the sole seven year old in the fourth grade- and he didn’t want to spoil it by making her walk.

Speaking of…

“So… How’s school?”

The humming instantly stopped, and he suppressed a wince. Wrong move, then.

“Fine.”

Her voice was rather monotone and dull, never a good sign.

“Yeah?”

Several seconds of silence, and Matt smirked, mentally counting down in his head.

_3… 2… 1…_

“I _hate_ it there. All the other kids are stupid butts and my teacher keeps treating me like a baby and I’m _not_ and it’s just so ridiculous because-”

“Because you thought moving up a couple of grades would make things better.”

She huffed, leaning down further onto his head and muttering a quiet noise of agreement into his hair.

“At least you have me, right?”

And he jostled her ankles again to make her laugh and pretended that he wasn’t worried, hiking up the hill in the dark with only the stars to keep them company.

“Yeah, yeah, at least I got you. Still… I just wish there was someone who doesn’t care that I’m smart-”

“And awesome.”

“And awesome. Someone who doesn’t care that I’m smart and awesome and just wants to be my friend. Ya know?”

And Matt nodded knowingly, and glances up again at the night sky once more.

“Well, it’s a big world. There’s gotta be someone out there who can stand the smell of your feet besides me.”

“Hey!”

She laughed, kicking him hard enough to probably leave a bruise tomorrow in the process, and he grinned.

Maybe she noticed that he kept looking up, because suddenly she was watching the bright points in the inky dark, too. He wondered what she was thinking, but Pidge had always been something like a Paradox to him, a constant puzzle that he could piece together but could never see the full picture of. Katie’s brain was something of a wonder, so big and bright and beautiful, just as amazing and wide as the night sky above.

He squeezed her ankles once more, pausing his upwards decent to look up with her.

“We’re gonna make it someday, Katie, you and me. We’re gonna be one with the stars. No one’ll be able to put us down then.”

She was grinning, he could just _tell,_ and he tilted his head back and smiled at her. Whatever the world though at them, they could face it, together.

And he continued up the path and took one step after another, her quiet humming filling the air once more, and above- clustered close and far in the night sky- the stars shown bright and fierce and free.

And later, years later, when Matt was older and harder and scarred and lost in those stars- those stars that went so much farther than he ever thought they could- he found his sister in his arms and her smile was the brightest thing he had ever seen, and she clung to him almost as tight as he held onto her. There were tears streaming down his face, and she was laughing and crying all at once, and he was so overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn’t even try to categorize what he was feeling.

But if he had to name it, he’d guess that it felt a little bit like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
